The Contract Bride of The Bloodhound

Camera flashes exploded the moment Sophia Carter stepped out of the black Mercedes. The cold evening air brushed against her skin as dozens of reporters surged forward behind the barricades, their voices overlapping into chaos. “Ms. Carter! Over here!” “Sophia! Is it true Carter Estates is bidding for the Blackridge territory tonight?” “Do you think a human owned company can actually win this auction?” Sophia adjusted the cuff of her ivory blazer before lifting her chin toward the cameras with practiced elegance. The fitted suit hugged her figure sharply, the gold buttons gleaming beneath the lights while her black heels clicked against the marble steps leading toward the grand entrance of the auction hall. Beautiful, untouchable, composed. Exactly the image she had spent years creating. Even if it was all held together by sheer force of will. Beside her, her assistant, Clara, leaned closer and muttered under her breath. “You look terrifying.” Sophia smiled faintly. “That is the plan.” More flashes erupted. The media loved her. Not because they respected her. Because she was controversial. The human woman arrogant enough to stand among wolves. She was like a sure scandal wrapped in designer clothing. Sophia turned smoothly toward the reporters. “I didn’t come here tonight just to participate,” she said calmly. “I came to win.” The reporters immediately exploded into louder questions. “What makes you think you can secure Blackridge against the major packs?” “Do you believe Carter Estates can protect the territory without pack backing?” Sophia’s smile sharpened. “I believe my competence matters more than wolf bloodlines.” Several werewolves standing nearby scoffed openly. She ignored them. Years ago, comments like that would have burned. Now? She wore insults like armor. Suddenly the crowd shifted. The reporters around Sophia began turning away almost immediately, cameras swinging wildly toward the arriving silver convoy pulling up beside the entrance. Sophia’s smile disappeared. Of course. Selene Arden. CEO of Arden Holdings. Sophia's rival company. The driver opened the luxury vehicle, and Selene stepped out like royalty descending from a throne. Tall. Blonde. Elegant. And worst of all? Protected by her bloodline. She was a werewolf. The cameras flashed even harder now. “Ms. Arden!” “Is the Crescent Pack officially supporting Arden Holdings tonight?” “Do you believe Blackridge already belongs to you?” Selene laughed softly as if the answer was obvious. Sophia folded her arms. “Unbelievable,” Clara muttered. Selene’s gaze slid across the crowd before landing directly on Sophia. The smile on her lips sharpened instantly. There it was. The real expression beneath the polished mask. The predator looking at prey. Selene walked toward her slowly, the crowd immediately parting for her. “Sophia,” she greeted smoothly. “Still hustling to attending events above your status?” Sophia’s expression didn’t shift. “Selene. I see your pack taught you how to arrive dramatically. Pity they couldn’t teach you competency along with it.” A few reporters gasped quietly. Selene’s smile tightened. “You know,” she said softly, “I almost admire your persistence. Truly. Most humans would’ve accepted their place by now.” Sophia stepped closer. “And most werewolves would’ve learned to win without hiding behind a pack.” The air around them sharpened instantly. Selene’s eyes flashed faintly gold. “Careful,” she murmured. “Blackridge isn’t a toy development project. Territories like that require real protection.” Sophia smiled coldly. “Then it’s a good thing I have more than enough money to hire real protection.” The reporters practically vibrated with excitement. Selene stared at Sophia for several long seconds before letting out a soft laugh. “You don’t belong here.” Then she turned and walked toward the entrance without another glance. Sophia’s jaw tightened. Not because the words hurt. But because part of her hated that the arrogant werewolf was right. In this world, humans never truly belonged anywhere powerful. “Come on,” Clara whispered carefully. Sophia inhaled once before straightening her shoulders. Then she walked inside. The auction hall was magnificent. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, their golden light spilling over polished black marble floors and rows of luxurious seating arranged in descending hierarchy. And hierarchy was exactly what it was. Sophia noticed it immediately. The front rows were occupied by Alpha families and powerful werewolf elites. Humans? Near the back. Far enough to remind them exactly where they stood. An usher stopped before them politely. “This is the section reserved for human representatives.” Sophia stared at the back-row seats. Her expression darkened instantly. “You’re joking.” The usher shifted nervously. “Those are the assigned seating arrangements, Ms. Carter.” Sophia took one dangerous step forward. “I contributed more revenue to this city than half the wolves sitting in the front combined.” “Sophia,” Clara warned quietly. “But somehow I’m seated behind them because they inherited sharper teeth?” Several nearby werewolves glanced toward them with annoyance. The usher looked seconds away from collapsing. Clara grabbed Sophia gently by the arm. “Not here.” Sophia exhaled slowly through her nose before finally moving toward the seats. Every step felt like swallowing broken glass. As she walked past the werewolf elites, whispers followed her immediately. “Humans are getting bolder.” “She actually thinks she belongs here.” “Pathetic.” Sophia kept her spine straight. They xan talk for now. But one day, they would choke on those words. She sat beside Clara stiffly, crossing her legs. Then the arrivals truly began. One Alpha family after another entered the hall, each arrival announced with subtle shifts in atmosphere and attention. Clara leaned closer occasionally, whispering introductions. “That’s Alpha Moretti from the East.” “The Silverfang family.” “The Blackthorn pack.” Sophia barely listened. Her focus remained fixed on the auction stage ahead. Tonight mattered too much. Blackridge territory was perfect It has prime location, massive commercial potential, future expansion opportunities. If Carter Estates secured it, her company would explode into another level entirely. Then suddenly.... The hall fell silent. Not gradually. Instantly. Sophia frowned slightly as the atmosphere shifted. Cold. Heavy. Like the room itself had stopped breathing. The massive entrance doors opened slowly. And the Viremont family walked in. Even Sophia felt it immediately. Power. Not the loud kind of power The terrifying kind. At the front walked Alpha Lucien Viremont, calm and commanding beneath the sharp black suit draped over his broad frame. But Sophia’s attention drifted past him almost instantly. To the man walking behind him. Tall. Broad shouldered. Dressed entirely in black. His expression was empty in a way that felt deeply unnatural. Not calm. Not bored. Just.... empty. Like emotion itself had been carved out of him years ago. The entire hall seemed terrified of meeting his eyes. Clara’s voice dropped into almost a whisper. “That’s Adrian Viremont.” Sophia continued staring. “The Alpha’s younger brother?” Clara nodded nervously. “They call him the Bloodhound of the North.” Sophia arched a brow. “Dramatic.” “You don’t understand,” Clara whispered quickly. “He’s the one the Viremonts send when someone disrespects the family. People disappear because of him.” Adrian walked behind his brother with perfect silence. Not beside him. Behind him. Like a shadow. Like a weapon. Sophia scoffed quietly. “Another privileged wolf drunk on power.” But strangely…. As Adrian passed their section, his gaze shifted briefly toward her. Only for a second. Expressionless. Yet Sophia felt oddly unsettled anyway. Then he looked away and continued walking. The auction began ten minutes later. “Starting bid for Blackridge Territory,” the auctioneer announced loudly, “five hundred million.” Placards immediately rose across the hall. Sophia lifted hers calmly. “Six hundred million.” “Seven hundred.” “Eight hundred.” The numbers climbed rapidly. Sophia stayed focused. Steady. Controlled. Across the hall, Selene smirked each time she increased her bid. Sophia ignored her completely. Then another placard rose from the front row. Adrian. Still standing silently behind his brother. “One billion.” The room stirred instantly. Sophia’s jaw tightened. She raised her placard again. “One point two.” Adrian raised his without hesitation. “One point five.” There was no emotion, no discussion, no effort. Just absolute certainty. Sophia narrowed her eyes. The bidding war intensified rapidly. Each time she raised the price.... Adrian matched it effortlessly. The pressure slowly built inside her chest. Two billion. Two point three. Two point seven. Her palms were beginning to ache around the placard. Then.... “Three billion.” Adrian’s deep voice cut through the hall for the first time. Calm. Cold. Final. Sophia froze. Even the auctioneer looked stunned. That territory was worth a fortune. But not this much. Clara leaned toward her urgently. “Sophia…” She knew. If she continued, Carter Estates would bleed financially for years. Slowly, Sophia lowered her placard. The auctioneer slammed the hammer down. “Sold to the Viremont pack.” Applause erupted throughout the hall. Sophia sat motionless. Furious. But at least Selene lost too. That alone felt mildly satisfying. By the time the auction ended, irritation still burned beneath Sophia’s skin. She stepped into one of the quieter side corridors near the exit, Clara following close behind. “That was insane,” Clara muttered. Sophia ripped off her gloves angrily. “He drove the price up on purpose.” Before Clara could answer, several male werewolves stepped into their path. Sophia instantly recognized them as businessmen from earlier. One smirked openly. “You humans really don’t know when to quit.” Another laughed. “Competing with Alphas? Embarrassing.” Sophia crossed her arms. “And yet none of you could outbid me either.” Their expressions darkened. “You should learn your place.” Sophia smiled sharply. “Why? So I can end up sounding as pathetic as you?” One of them stepped forward aggressively. “You arrogant little....” His gaze landed on a silver walking stick resting against a nearby chair. Without thinking, he grabbed it violently and raised it toward Sophia. Clara gasped. Sophia instinctively closed her eyes.... But the hit never came. A cold silence followed instead. Sophia slowly opened her eyes. A large hand had caught the walking stick midair effortlessly. Adrian Viremont stood in front of the man. Expressionless. Terrifying. The werewolf businessman immediately turned pale. Adrian’s voice was quiet. Deadly quiet. “Do you know whose property you just touched?” The man began trembling instantly. “I.... I didn’t mean.....” “That,” Adrian continued softly, “belongs to the Alpha.” Fear exploded across the werewolves’ faces. One of them actually stumbled backward. “S-Sir Adrian.....” “Get out.” Nobody argued. They scattered almost immediately. Sophia stared at Adrian silently. Up close, he felt even colder somehow. Not cruel. Just… empty. She cleared her throat slightly. “Thank you.” Adrian finally looked at her directly. Dark eyes. Unreadable eyes. “I wasn’t helping you.” His gaze shifted briefly to the walking stick he was now holding. Then back to her. “You just happened to be standing near something valuable.” And with that.... He walked away. Sophia stared after him in disbelief. Then irritation slammed into her chest again. “Unbelievable,” she muttered. Clara blinked rapidly. “He’s terrifying.” Sophia scoffed. “He’s just like the rest of them. Arrogant and foolish” Clara hesitated before speaking carefully. “Sophia… you do know that’s Adrian Viremont.” Sophia frowned. “And?” Clara lowered her voice. “He’s not someone people survive provoking.” Sophia looked toward the corridor where he had disappeared moments ago. Then she straightened her blazer calmly. “Good thing I’m not just 'people', I am Sophia Carter and even he should be careful of provoking me.”